


It Is What It Is

by bucklinbarnes



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Comic-Con, Established Relationship, Fluff, Intimacy, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 16:24:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13415100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucklinbarnes/pseuds/bucklinbarnes
Summary: Sebastian and Chris attend their first con of the year together. It doesn’t go as planned.





	It Is What It Is

“Mmm.. no.”

“Chris.”

“ _Tired_... please.”

“ _Chris_.”

“Five more minutes, ma.”

Sleepy Chris is relentless and stubborn as always. He continues to mumble nonsense into the white hotel comforter with his eyes squinted shut and one hand fisted in the sheets. Sebastian laughs softy at the sight. He missed his guy a lot.

He nudges his nose gently underneath Chris’ while half his body is still leaned out of bed. “You’re not Ma.” Chris hums lowly after receiving a warm kiss.

With a smile Seb replies, “No. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get your ass up. Who’re you calling _ma_?”

It’s Saturday morning in Arizona which means they have a con to get ready for in 2 hours. They arrived at the hotel from the airport just a few hours ago, and decided a nap was a must. As much as he’d love for them to stay here – and for him to get his much needed cuddle on – the fans are waiting.

Chris leans in for a follow-up kiss, and then two more. He can’t help but grin at the way Seb’s beard tickles his currently shaved face.

“So bossy.” He teases. “Why am I dating you again?”

With an exaggerated lift of his eyebrows Seb turns smug, lazily drawling out his next response. “Because you looooove me.”

The romantic fool he is, Chris turns pink and taps his fingers lightly over his boyfriend’s cheeks in admiration. Damn it, it doesn’t help that Sebastian’s morning voice is all rough and raspy too. He wishes he was able to hear it every time he waked.

They’re both still so exhausted from the constant filming, and Sebastian’s nonstop movie promotion, but this gives his mind the peace it needs. An inner stillness like nothing else.

Reaching a hand across Chris’ bare abdomen and to the center of his chest, Seb lays his palm flat. It’s so familiar now; pale, freckled, sturdy, warm. He lays back while gazing at Chris and playing idly with the charm on his necklace. “You alright?”

Suddenly back in the real world, nerves bubbling so close the surface, Chris tries to shake the feeling off. “Yeah.”

And he means it. Sebastian makes him feel wonderful. Like the luckiest guy on the planet. And these kinds of events make him feel a million times more grateful and loved. It’s just intense.

“Anxiety about today?” Sebastian asks kindly, prompting him further.

“A bit, yeah. But I’ll be fine.” He whispers back.

He always knows what’s going on with him, there’s no point in hiding. Sebastian knows Chris doesn’t often go to cons, that Chris wouldn’t likely go to one by himself. He knows crowds intimidate him; so many eyes judging and expecting.

It’s like Seb is connected right to his heart, attached at the vein. Feeling and recognizing every pulse of emotion even before Chris does. Or as Mackie likes to call him “The Chris Whisperer.” And in a way, Chris is the same with him. Reaching out to give comforting touches during interviews, offering small smiles of encouragement in public, and even earlier today: when he ordered Sebastian a personal massage for tonight once he noticed his tense shoulders. Their bodies just know each other. Maybe they always have.

“Y’know, a really smart guy once told me some great advice.”

Chris gazes into bright grey eyes and waits for him to go on.

“He told me that, fear just holds you back. And doing what you’re scared of can actually get you where you need to go. To be happy.”

Halfway through, Chris realizes Seb is quoting _him_ , precisely on what he told Seb when he was nervous about a new role. A wave of affection hits him like a ton of bricks.

“That guy sounds like he’s full of shit.” He says with a watery smile. An over-dramatic stern look crosses Sebastian’s face. “Hey, don’t talk about my man like that!”

They both fall into a fit of laughter and Sebastian makes another attempt at pulling Chris off of the mattress.

“Do I have competition now? Who do I have to fight?” He barely wheezes out, the giggling between the two of them uncontrollable at this point.

Seb cackles and leans his head back, grabbing his left boob.

“Hey, that’s my move!”

Chris pins him down and squeezes both of Seb’s pecs before launching himself out of bed. Sebastian quickly joins him.

-

Mackie greets them at the hotel breakfast bar with a plate full of omelettes and a voice that booms around the whole room.

“Took you long enough, Mr. and Mr. Evans!” He exclaims.

Chris pulls the brim of his Boston baseball cap lower on his head in an attempt to hide his blush. “Oh shut up, man.” He comments, no heat in his words.

“Long time no see, big bird.” Sebastian taunts, his witty persona he gets from constantly being around Anthony swiftly returning.

“You did not just say that.”

Soon enough, Seb and Mackie are bantering like there’s no tomorrow while Chris waits for his small order of pancakes. Seb says he’ll just get a coffee but agrees to share Chris’ plate with him.

In the meantime, Chris checks twitter. He considers saying something about the con, but no words or message come to mind.

The longer he stays away from their hotel room, the more he starts to feel the thrum of his heartbeat course through him. The knot in his stomach builds with the anticipation of what’s coming next; what he can’t predict or variables he can’t control. It gives him an idea. Strangely, one that involves googling himself.

He ends up reposting a YouTube video of him speaking out about his anxiety. It’ll hopefully help other people and that will at least be a comfort.

He looks over to Mackie and Seb snickering about god knows what this early, and smiles at his friends. He’s a sap, but he feels content here.

Chris’ expression catches Sebastian’s eye. He lifts his right arm to rest on the nape of Chris’ neck, brushing through the short hair at the bottom with his thumb.

“You lovebirds forget about me already?” Mackie asks, faking annoyance.

“Oh, sorry.” Seb says bashfully, like he didn’t even realize it.

Mackie chuckles. “I knew it! I knew it wouldn’t take long!”

Chris is amused and suddenly inspired to start a rant. “Quit playing around, let’s be serious. Who do _you_ think is gonna win tonight’s game?” A sports debate that Sebastian is unable to take any part in abruptly starts, but he still weighs in when Chris familiarly chants “Seb, back me up here!” and supports him with the typical “Of course, yeah!” and “That’s totally true.” Chris could be listing off complete crap and Sebastian would defend him to his dying day.

They part ways to meet up with their respective agents and assistants for the con, being briefed on today’s schedule as well. It’s gonna be hectic as fuck. But at least they get to start it off with a panel.

Backstage, Seb stands beside Chris close enough that their sides brush. If just for a moment, their fingers touch and slightly interlace, no one else has to know.

When their names are announced he watches Chris leave to walk in front of the curtain first, then follows after Mackie. To his dismay, this time Mackie is sat in-between them since the interviewer listed them in that order. But that doesn’t stop any side glances and conversations from taking place.

Sebastian waves to the fans, happy to be here and see their excited faces. He hopes Chris is enjoying himself too.

He can’t help but ramble on about things and laugh at himself when doing panels, it makes him feel like one of the fans himself. Not to mention the rush of adrenaline a loving crowd provides.

Ultimately, he finds himself stumbling on his star-struck encounter with Hugh Jackman at the Golden Globes, and even refers to him as “Mr. Jackman” like a total dork. Before he realizes it, his story comes off like he’s hinting at Wolverine returning or something. Which obviously won’t happen, but the crowd still ignites with screams.

Mackie shakes his head like he’s not surprised and Chris gives him a fond look like: _you never could keep your mouth shut, huh?_

Sebastian’s face burns once he hears those words. “Oh, Sebastian. _Oh_ , Sebastian.”

Chris is just poking fun at him, but Seb still can’t help but think of him saying that in a much different, _private_ context. He shifts restless in his seat, hoping his flustered face will go unnoticed.

That fails again when Chris brings up how much he loves Bucky.

“He wasn’t a villain, he’s a victim really. It’s not his fault! He’s _brainwashed!_ ” Something like butterflies flutter in Sebastian’s stomach when he sees Chris speak so passionately, merely about the character he plays.

“I have a soft spot.”

His cheeks begin to ache from smiling so wide. Seb ponders what exactly Chris is referring to: being protective over Bucky as a character? Possibly hinting at Steve’s obvious romance with Bucky? But, there was also a small part of his brain which told him that, he himself – _Sebastian_ – was Chris’ soft spot. And didn’t that just embarrass him beyond belief.

He can’t help but crack up when the interviewer goes on as if nothing happened.

Seb flails so wildly that he nearly falls out of his chair while staring at Chris. Mackie laughs at him and Chris tries his best to avoid further eye contact. But if anyone were paying close attention, and knew where to look, they’d see how much Chris fidgets in his seat and wipes imaginary dust off his jeans. The tension from the heavy silence hanging in the air whenever they flirt can be cut with a _knife_. It’s hilarious to say the least.

But ultimately Sebastian knows Chris won’t be able to hold this against him – approximately 10 minutes later Chris takes the hat resting on his knee (a weird habit of Seb’s he picked up) to place firmly on his head, coincidentally right after turning red from the smirk Seb gave him.

When they finish up after about a half hour, the three of them get ready to pose for a group photo further on the stage.

Sebastian is hesitant where to stand. As usual, he and Chris do a shit job at being subtle and want to make it appear that they don’t actually care how close they are. Although, when Mackie stands in the middle of them yet again, Seb leans sideways and reaches an arm past his friend’s back to get a hand on Chris’ left shoulder where it belongs.

He prays he doesn’t look that desperate to touch him, but who wouldn’t want to hold Chris, right?

Of course, that mantra stays in Seb’s head for the rest of the day.

All together, they probably hug over 300 people that day alone. And Sebastian thanks whatever god that’s out there for the multiple sessions of photo ops he gets to do with Chris. AKA, the perfect excuse to get hugs from his guy.

Those small touches alone keep him going throughout it all. The simple press of Chris’ hand on his back, a firm grasp on his forearm, fingers just barely brushing each other. It’s intoxicating, all of it. If someone told Seb he’d still be this gone for the same guy 8 years ago, he’d call them crazy.

It’s thrilling being here with Chris. To share the experience of being given so much appreciation and kindness from all the fans. And it’s nice to know that they like talking to him about Chris too.

One in particular, asks Sebastian whether he’s going to see Chris on Broadway. He visibly lights up at the question. “I’m definitely gonna go see it,” He replies cheerfully. “Absolutely.”

After all, Chris will be staying at their place in New York, whenever Seb is there during rehearsal and performance nights. Chris’ management team told him to also rent an apartment just for himself as well – to avoid suspicions – and luckily Tribeca and Soho aren’t far apart at all. He’s really looking forward to spending those upcoming weeks with his man, unbothered for the most part. Getting to wake up side by side, and go to bed again wrapped up in those safe arms.

Another fan gives him what looks like Captain America themed decor, small pendants encased with some material resembling an ice cube. “You gotta give one of these to Chris.” He comments offhandedly, in awe of the detail. She explains that she plans to do just that tomorrow.

At some point in the day, he even finds himself doodling an image of Chris on a fan’s photo op with his sharpie. It’s poorly done, but he thinks it’s his best work. The corner of his mouth lifts as he writes out a clever speech bubble to top it off: “I’M CHRIS.”

Sometimes Sebastian thinks about how little things would change. How if he took his relationship with Chris out of context, viewing it objectively, them being a couple isn’t all that different from their already existing co-star camaraderie. It _shouldn’t_ be surprising to people, if they found out. But unfortunately that was how Hollywood worked. Essentially, Seb has known and worked with Chris for near a decade. It’s such a natural thing; the growing comfort level and onscreen chemistry. It is what it is. Fans already treat their friendship so casually that he occasionally imagines that they are in fact aware. That they support his relationship or simply don’t care. It’s gratifying to muse about.

He runs into Chris again in the hotel lobby hours later.

“Hey.” He greets with a tired smile.

“Hey.” Sebastian says back.

Chris runs a hand over the back of his neck as they enter the elevator. They both tuck their hands in their front jean pockets almost in sync. He exhales a laugh out through his nose, thinking about how ridiculous it is that they still act so shy around each other. And not even in a bad way... just shy. Gentle. Tactile. Like it’s their first date all over again every time.

“What?” Seb questions, confused but charmed.

Chris shakes his head fondly and shuffles his feet. “Nothing.. Just _you_.”

Seb looks up at him, delighted, with stars in his eyes. He removes his right hand from his own pocket, moving it to Chris’ back pocket and cupping the left cheek.

“Wish I could do that wherever I wanted.” He murmurs, sounding peeved.

Chris chuckles softly. “Yeah?”

The elevator dings open and they walk back towards their room. When Chris reaches to pull out his wallet and retrieve the key card, Sebastian bear hugs him from behind.

“I like this sweater.” He sighs, lips muffled from pressing against Chris’ neck.

“What, you wanna steal it like you did my blue one?”

Seb whines in astonishment. “Hey, I gave that back! And I’m already wearing your shirt.”

Chris gets the door open and turns around, still in Seb’s arms, to get a good look at the shirt.

Sure enough, the black v-neck tee Sebastian’s been sporting all afternoon is an old one of Chris’. It fits him great, despite being a little loose. Then again, all of Chris’ clothes are a little loose on him. It’s cute.

“Unbelievable.” He adds.

In one swift move, Chris pulls Seb inside by the lapel of his jacket and kicks the door closed.

As soon as it shuts, Chris hauls him into an encompassing hug. Seb’s breath gets caught in his throat as he hugs back. He tucks his nose into the crease between Seb’s neck and shoulder, breathing him in deeply.

It’s so tranquil, the way he mildly rocks them side to side in the quiet of the room and rubs his hands down Seb’s spine.

“Enjoy the massage?” Chris inquires lovingly.

“Yeah. Thank you, babe. My back was killing me.” He answers. He can feel himself melting into Chris’ embrace the longer they hold each other. “I know. Didn’t want you to be in pain anymore.”

Sebastian feels hands slowly curl up into his hair. Petting and admiring, Chris threads the short strands through his fingers, ruining whatever neat look Seb had managed to get his unruly locks into. He’s more partial to the long hair; more to grab onto, not to mention purely breath-taking to look at. But this is somehow more satisfying to touch, shorter than he’s ever seen it, instant reactions are drawn from Seb from the direct stimulation on his scalp.

“You’re gonna make me fall asleep.” Seb says, eyes drifting closed.

He stops in his tracks and brings hands to frame the other man’s face. “I don’t think so.”

Grinning with his eyes still closed, Seb tilts his head to fit into the curve of Chris’ jaw. He peppers kisses there and lifts his hands to grasp at the hem of Chris’ sweater. Soon Chris’ breath hitches as Seb starts leaving kisses more intensely; open-mouthed on skin, biting briefly now at Chris’ shoulder before licking all over it.

“Seb.” He hisses.

Sebastian groans in response, the hands he had on Chris’ sweater in fists now.

Chris moves Seb’s head back up to face him again. They share a charged glance before closing the distance, gasping into each other’s mouths.

No longer holding back, Seb pulls on Chris’ shirt, pulling him close so that they connect from the hip down. Chris moans when Seb opens his mouth for him to lick into.

It’s something between relaxed and frantic. They have trust and loyalty, but every moment is so fleeting and sacred.

“Do you wanna?” He breathes against Sebastian’s lips.

“Y-Yeah. God, yes.”

Chris’ sweater is tugged at impatiently again by Seb. He backs away and removes it entirely, throwing it down to the floor by his luggage.

Seb’s mouth waters at the great view playing out before him. The flexing of Chris’ abs and biceps wakes him up more than the starbucks coffee he had this morning.

Chris’ eyes are shining in the low light, green and blue and mesmerizing. “Quit being so beautiful.” He professes.

It’s almost immediate how Chris shrinks in on himself, flushing down his whole torso and batting his eyelashes sheepishly. It amazes Sebastian that this 6’0 all muscle guy still doesn’t get how in love he is with him.

“You look in a mirror lately?” Chris counters slyly.

“Y’know, you don’t need to hit on me anymore. I’m already sleeping with you.”

Chris huffs in amusement and begins to unbuckle his belt. “Funny. Did you take the stuff with you?”

“No,” Sebastian states. “I _brought_ it with me.”

Chris face palms. “I hate you so much.”

“Hey, _you’re_ the one that had to ask whether I take it home with me from set you weirdo!” He says exasperatedly.

“And how much you use. Very important questions.”

Chris inches closer to him, both hands working on his own zipper to pull his jeans down.

“Like you don’t already know the answer.” Seb smirks.

5 minutes and another pair of discarded clothes later, Chris is sat upright on the couch with Sebastian in his lap.

They’re both panting heavily, rutting naked against each other as Seb grinds down in his lap, the friction not enough.

“Uhh.. please. _Chris_.”

Chris nods quickly, lifting Seb up so that he can properly push into him. “Oh, _fuck_ babe.” Chris murmurs intelligently when he gets fully seated.

They dont last long. Between Chris’ grip on Seb’s upper thighs and ass, and Seb’s hands roaming over the other man’s chest, they really get into it.

“My _god_.” Seb chants.

Once Chris starts shallowly thrusting, Seb starts making little “uh” noises every time he pumps into him. Shit, he’s close. “You’re so – _oh_ – you feel so good.” Chris praises. Seb preens from the attention.

“Fuck, right there.”

Seb sucks a heated kiss below Chris’ ear before planting one on his lips as he finishes.

Chris jerks up into him with a grunt and releases the hold on Seb’s legs, pulling out gently. He wraps his arms around Seb’s broad back after, exploring and soothing. Their bodies are both slick with sweat now but he doesn’t care. Seb is pure warmth, his skin soft and smooth beneath his touch. Under the moonlight, he thinks they probably look like a Van Gogh painting.

Completely limp on top of him, Sebastian refuses to move. Chris kisses the side of his face. “Shower?”

Despite the groaning Seb does in protest, he still manages to drag himself off to flop back on the couch beside Chris. He pouts his lips, giving the most irresistible puppy-eyed look Chris has ever seen. “Ok.” he mutters, lifting his arms.

Chris smiles softly and stands up, leaning over his guy to carefully pick him up and carry him bridal style to the hotel bathroom.

-

Hayley’s flight arrives to Phoenix tonight, so of course her first rule of business was to have a nice dinner out with everyone.

When Chris and Sebastian get redressed, they head down the street from the hotel to what she described as a “wicked Italian place.”

Once they step inside they’re soon escorted to a round table with a booth in the back. It’s a candle-lit restaurant, and Chris quickly realizes how romantic it is. _Thank you, Hayley._

She waves excitedly at them from the booth. “Hey boys! Sit your arses down already.” Her British accent brings an energy and familiarity to the room that Chris missed dearly. It’s a shame she can’t be on set anymore. But then again, neither will Chris now. He’s still trying not to get too choked up about it.

He gives her a warm hug and another one armed one to Mackie as well who’s sitting right next to her. Seb does the same, a bit more timidly since he and Hayley were never as close. But Chris can tell it’s only because she’s such a powerhouse, anyone would be overwhelmed.

They get their pasta and Chris has to agree he’s never had better spaghetti bolognese. Seb steals some off his plate with a wink.

“So how goes it?” She inquires. “You two getting along well?”

Seb turns pink at the insinuation. They already told her about their relationship ages ago, but the reminder always lights him up from the inside. “Yeah we’re both good. Also.. _doing good_. We’re great.” He stutters.

“They sure are.” Mackie declares.

Chris smiles and puts a hand on Seb’s wrist, reassuring. “Yeah,” he adds dreamily. “The convention’s going well. We’re looking forward to you joining us tomorrow. Should be _fun_.”

Hayley giggles, clearly pleased. “That’s fantastic. And you better prepare yourself mister, I’m the photo op master.”

“Oh please,” Mackie interjects. “That title clearly belongs to me.”

“Yeah right. That’s big talk for a little pigeon.” He scoffs at the insult. “So what are you guys up to these days? I feel like I miss everything!” Hayley complains, turning back to Chris and Sebastian.

They all catch up a bit on life; Mackie talks about his kids and how quickly they’ve grown, obliging when Hayley begs for pictures. Hayley herself is currently working on a play, needing to fly back as soon as tomorrow night for rehearsals.

Chris brings up how he’s doing Broadway for the first time this year, and she explodes with glee from her end at the table.

“That’s absolutely amazing, Chris. I can’t wait to go see it!” Hayley beams.

“Yeah man, congrats. You’ll kill it.” Mackie encourages.

Chris can feel himself getting modest about the work. Especially since it’s a project he’s nervous about. “Thank you, thank you. I’m just scared I’m gonna mess it up y’know. Theater is terrifying!”

Hayley nods sympathetically.

Mackie sits up straighter and puts his game face on. “You can do anything man, you got this. Besides, Sea Bass over here will be in the audience cheering you on, won’t he? That’s his home turf!”

Sebastian laughs at the pun and smiles sweetly. _Of course he will._

“Don’t forget to bring him flowers, Sebastian. Chris needs the full boyfriend package.” Hayley insists teasingly.

“You got it.” Seb says, not breaking eye contact with Chris.

Chris squeezes his hand again and shifts to face the others. “Ok but have guys seen Seb’s new movie? Him and Margot Robbie are _phenomenal_.”

It turns out neither Hayley or Mackie have seen it, but they’ve heard of it and Mackie’s asked him about it before. 

“He won his first award for it. A Hollywood Film award!” Chris mentions proudly.

“Oh, come on.” Seb laughs, embarrassed. _It_ _was_ _only_ _for_ _ensemble_ _cast_.

“Bro, don’t even get me started. You’re so talented!” Chris rants affectionately.

Seb feels like he’s floating, hearing Chris compliment him nonstop like this.

They all continue to praise Seb; Hayley wishing his film the best at the Oscars, and Mackie giving him a pat on the back saying this was all a long time coming. As the night winds down, Chris and Seb end up eventually being the only ones left at the table.

They’ve already eaten their food, delaying just to enjoy each other’s company a little while longer in the picturesque atmosphere.

Their feet are overlapping under the table, inching back and forth up their calves.

They were making small talk, calmly discussing both everything and nothing at all, until Sebastian falls silent.

“Hmm?” Chris hums, puzzled.

But Seb is staring across the room at the booth opposite theirs. He looks over in the same direction and sees an old couple, maybe in their late 70s or early 80s. He wonders what exactly is so fascinating about the random people.

Seb whispers, “D’ya think you’ll still like me when we’re all old?”

He sounds hesitant, afraid of what might happen in the future. He’s trying to pass the question off as a joke, and Chris isn’t letting that slide.

“Yeah.” He chokes out. Seb looks back at him, like he’s surprised to get an answer at all. “I don’t think I could ever stop loving you.”

Sebastian feels his heart swell up inside his chest, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He can’t remember ever being this happy his whole life. And it’s times like these when he’s so glad Chris accepted the role of Steve Rogers, that they gave him a second shot at playing Bucky. God knows where he would he right now if either events didn’t happen. He meets Chris with an equally blinding smile.

“Me too.”

-

It’s when they’re getting settled in bed that Chris starts coughing.

At first, it’s barely a concern, but after the 5th in a row Sebastian can’t help but grow worried. “Are you ok?”

Chris sits up to grab a tissue and briefly blow his nose.

“Yeah.” He promises. “Just.. felt a little weird today. But I’m sure it’s nothing.”

It’s suddenly very apparent how nasily Chris’ voice sounds. The last thing either of them need this weekend is to get sick. Least of all Chris, whose skin is paler than snow white’s. But Sebastian himself is starting to notice how rough and dry his own throat feels. Fuck.

“I’m gonna grab some NyQuil.” He announces distractedly.

Chris waves him off and blows his nose again. When Seb gets back from digging through his travel size medicine kit, Chris practically looks like Rudolph. It would be adorable if it weren’t for how gross he knew they both felt.

He pours the blue liquid into the cap and watches Chris down it in one go, while making the most disgusted face possible.

Seb pours another for himself and forces it down, his nose involuntarily scrunching up.

“What, you too?” Chris asks.

“Yeah.” Seb rasps. He pulls the covers over his shoulders and scoots closer to him.

“ _Babe_.” Chris says with a frown. He tucks his hand into the back of Seb’s CKs, hoping that will magically help.

Seb intertwines his fingers with Chris’ free hand, and rests his chin on the other man’s chest. “We just need to rest... it’ll be better in the morning. Sleep it off.”

“Yeah, ok.” Chris replies, half-asleep.

“Night. Love you.”

“Love you.”

-

Of course, it doesn’t get better. On Sunday morning, Chris wakes up feeling like he’s on a sailboat. He’s burning hot, sweating through the sheets and shaking violently.

“Fuck.” Seb curses emphatically.

He touches Chris’ face delicately, trying to gauge how bad it is. He feels the unnatural heat permeating under his skin and looks into his bloodshot eyes. He decides to check Chris’ temperature with his travel size thermometer and it reads 102 F. “ _Fuck_.” He repeats again.

“I feel like shit.” Chris declares sadly.

Seb is suddenly coughing like crazy and starts to regret not quitting smoking sooner. “I know, babe.”

Chris starts making small noises, all uncomfortable and mournful. He twitches on the bed and holds a pillow close to his stomach.

Seb rushes to get his medicine kit again, searching for whatever might help best, before just going _fuck it_ and dumping the whole thing out at the foot of the bed. He hands Chris a tylenol and a few other things, moving next to the bathroom to wet a wash cloth towel so that Chris can cool down.

He waits a few moments after Chris is settled again to drink some Tylenol himself and lean down next to him, still clad in only CKs and a t-shirt.

“I think you should cancel.” He suggests gently, moving the bangs sticking to Chris’ forehead away from his face.

Chris can’t go out there like this. He shouldn’t be going _anywhere_ like this.

He looks even more upset now, like he just got told one of his pets died. But the truth is, Chris doesn’t want to disappoint anyone. The fans paid money to see him today, took time out of their lives to come here and meet him. Some of them more excited for it than he could possibly understand. He can’t fail them.

“Seb, are you sure? I can’t just–“

“You’ve got a fever and couldn’t stop coughing your lungs out all night.” He explains kindly. “They’ll understand.”

“And what about you?” He asks, concerned.

“I don’t have it as bad as you. I think I can make it, push through.”

The idea of him forcing himself to do this makes Chris miserable. “Seb– you look dead on your feet, man. I don’t know.”

“Trust me. I know what my limit is. If it gets bad I’ll leave early. Promise.” Seb swears.

“Ok. I just don’t want you to suffer, y’know.” He whimpers a little.

“I know. You don’t need to worry.” Seb soothes.

They end up calling assistants, agents and managers and let them all know. His team come to an agreement that he’ll post-pone any and all of his events for a few hours just in case he feels up to it, before cancelling entirely.

Seb changes into a striped shirt and pulls a black sweater over it, beginning to get the shakes. Getting sick always makes him run cold for some reason.

Chris nudges him with his toes and Seb reaches back to caress his ankle.

“My assistant said she’d stop by every now and then to make sure I’m ok.” Chris heaves out. “You can ask her for updates if you want.”

“That’s great, tell her thank you.” Seb replies, relieved. He wants to be there for the fans, but the second things go to complete shit he’d leave them all without a second thought.

He gives Chris a drive-by kiss on the mouth – because fuck it, they’re both dying – and makes his way down to the convention center after exchanging a few last I love yous.

He meets up with Anthony before they start, letting him know Chris will probably be a no-show.

Mackie swears and coughs into his sleeve. “Shit man, it’s like flu season in here.”

“So you got it too?” Sebastian asks, sniffing.

“Yeah! Felt like I died and came back to life this morning. Hope everybody doesn’t mind meeting a zombie.” He complains.

“I know the feeling.”

Sebastian scrunches his nose and fixes his newsie hat tighter on his head.

Mackie laughs weakly at him, “You look like an old grouchy grandfather.” Seb hits him lightly on the shoulder in retaliation. “But seriously, how’s Evans?”

“He woke up with a high fever, coughed through the night, seemed really out of it and dizzy this morning.” Seb sighs, sorrowful.

“That sucks, man. Hopefully we can make it through today for his sake.”

“Yeah. I heard Holland say he’d do extra photo ops to help out. We might have to stop bullying him.” Seb mentions lightheartedly.

“I don’t know about that.” Mackie grins.

The con ends up being a complete cluster-fuck with Chris gone, and it makes Seb wonder how bad it would be if he had cancelled too. But he does his best, and overcompensates for what fans are missing out on. He answers questions from them about it and assures everyone that Chris will be fine. The red alert signs all around the convention center sharing the information about Chris’ absence make the hole in his chest ache.

He gets a call from Chris’ assistant, letting him know that Chris puked twice since he left, and won’t make it there at all. Sebastian wants to cry just thinking about it.

He knows that by this time next week they’ll all be better, but it doesn’t stop him from wishing his guy didn’t have to go through it all.

He and Anthony do the photo ops without Chris, and the same goes for him and Hayley. It’s nice having them there and it makes him feel slightly less alone. Later, it seems that a lot of people made the last minute decision to write “Get Well Chris” or “We Love Chris” on pieces of paper to hold up while posing for the camera. It touches Seb’s heart. He’ll tell him about it after.

They end up staying way later than planned, especially with the overbooking and terrible schedule. Seb knows he’s not smiling his brightest for pictures anymore, or giving enough of his attention to people at his booth. But cut him a break, he’s fucking exhausted. And he’s still here.

It also doesn’t help that his manager just warned him about certain ‘fans’ that could be potentially dangerous, not to mention several other people touched him like an object all day. He needs to get out of here.

Mackie approaches him outside as he finally exits. “Bar?”

“Bar.” He confirms.

They sit down and order a couple drinks, just to calm down. Neither of them are interested in getting a hangover on top of the damn flu.

“When’s your flight?” Seb questions.

“Nine.” Mackie answers. “You?”

“Eight thirty.”

“Didn’t Chris’ assistant say you guys could leave earlier? She said she squeezed you in at six forty-five.”

“Really?” Seb looks at him, startled. That’s in a half hour. “Wow. Then I-“

“Just go, man. I get it.” Mackie responds, winking.

Sebastian gets back to their hotel room to see Chris grumpily putting on socks, sat at the edge of the mattress. He whimpers in relief when he sees Seb, making a wounded sound like he thought he’d never see him again.

“Chris.” He gasps, ready to kneel down and pull him into a hug.

But instead, he gets dragged into an embrace where Chris is eye level with his navel, and tucks his nose into the safety of Seb’s cotton sweater. “Doll.”

“Feeling any better?” Seb asks, hopeful.

“I think so.” He answers. His voice is hoarse, coming out raw and vulnerable. It almost sounds the way it does when he’s been crying. It’s fucking Seb up.

He kisses Chris’ forehead and strokes the strong planes of his back.

“Let’s go home.”

Chris sleeps on the jet, head laid on top of Seb’s shoulder. Seb drifts in and out of consciousness and focuses on Chris’ weight on him to try and forget how much he hates flying.

Back at Chris’ LA house, that Seb basically lives in whenever he visits the city, Seb makes them both chamomile tea with honey. There’s empty soup bowls on the coffee table and lozenge wrappers scattered around them. They’re spooning on the oversized couch in the den, Before Sunrise playing at low volume on the tv.

The two of them also happen to be drugged out of their minds on DayQuil and other various meds. It makes Seb loopy and Chris laugh randomly at scenes that aren’t even funny. Dodger sits below them chewing on his new favorite toy. Seb saw a stuffed crab last weekend that sang “Under the Sea” and couldn’t resist getting it for him.

“Seb.” Chris mumbles. His mouth is speaking directly into the couch cushion.

“What?”

There’s no reply for a couple minutes and Seb gets confused. He wraps his arm tighter around the other man’s slim waist. “Chris?”

“How much lube do you use?”

 _Of course_.

Chris chuckles quietly until it grows into a full blown Chris Evans Cackle.

“Shut the fuck up.” Seb tells him, unable to resist the smile forming on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> I was really inspired by this past weekend so here’s my interpretation of events! It’s what they deserve.


End file.
